


Bathe You in the Light of Day

by Brill (HalfLight)



Category: DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Body Worship, Lazy Mornings, Lazy Sex, M/M, Morning Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-22 22:29:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6096022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalfLight/pseuds/Brill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mink tugs at the string, allowing the sunlight to stream in—it’s late spring, so the leaves weave together and keep most of the sun out.  It lets shafts of sunlight fall on their bed in shifting patterns as Mink sits up, leaning against his curled knees, and takes in the whisper of leaves through the breeze, and the gentle warmth pressing against his side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bathe You in the Light of Day

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from "Crack the Shutters" by Snow Patrol, which inspired this story. Listen to it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MZISAMwBJeE!

Mink wakes slowly, as he always does on holidays.   
  
A sliver of sunlight that paws at his eyelids, making him crease his brows and squeeze his eyes shut tighter, hoping to block it out.  But by then it’s too late--he’s awake, the last fragments of sleep drifting away like milkweed seeds on a strong breeze.  
  
Mink sighs and opens his eyes.  His body heaves a sigh as he pushes down the blinds to peek outside, the slats creasing between his fingers.  Mink tugs at the string, allowing the sunlight to stream in—it’s late spring, so the leaves weave together and keep most of the sun out.  It lets shafts of sunlight fall on their bed in shifting patterns as Mink sits up, leaning against his curled knees, and takes in the whisper of leaves through the breeze, and the gentle warmth pressing against his side.  
  
Mink shifts his gaze down to Aoba, a warm, soft weight curled into Mink’s side.  His face is unguarded and relaxed, sunk deep in sleep.  Mink licks his lips as his gaze shifts down, trying to soothe the sudden dust-dryness creeping into his mouth when he realizes that Aoba’s not naked—at least, not anymore.  
  
Instead, Aoba’s swathed in Mink’s button-down shirt.    It’s the same one he shoved off of Mink’s shoulders last night, his hand curling against Mink’s bicep as his other slipped into his jeans to palm him.  
  
Mink watches him, cradling his palm in his chin.  Aoba’s lips are parted, his hands curled near his mouth.  His fingertips peeking out from the shirt’s sleeves, and Mink thinks aboout how he seems so much smaller when he wears Mink’s clothes.  With his free hand, Mink reaches down and takes Aoba’s earlobe between the knuckles of his pointer and middle fingers, shifting the tender skin.  Aoba shifts a little, a small groan stuttering from his throat, but does nothing else but relax with a deep sigh, nudging his head towards Mink’s knuckles.  
  
Mink’s breath catches, and his chest swells with warmth that clings to his ribcage.  It’s more satisfying than suffocating, and he lays back down, gathering Aoba close and inhaling their mingled scents.  
  
Aoba shifts, pressing against Mink’s body, and--  
  
_Oh_.  
  
Mink looks from Aoba’s slumbering face to the place where their bodies touch.  There aren’t pockets on this shirt--particularly not where Aoba’s poking his hip, half-hard and pressing closer.  
  
Mink’s throat clicks as he swallows, the sound sharp at the back of his skull, and he looks into Aoba’s face again.  He scans his lips, his brow, the crease of his eyes, and finds no hint as to what Aoba’s dreaming about—if he’s even dreaming at all.  
  
Mink tucks a stray strand of Aoba’s hair back behind his ear, then traces his fingertips down Aoba’s cheek and neck, pausing to feel Aoba’s pulse flutter against the pads of his fingers.  Aoba’s mouth falls open a little more as Mink continues to map Aoba’s body, and Mink bites his lip as a small “ah” slips from Aoba’s throat.  
  
Warmth glows in his hips; Mink forces himself to stay still, splaying his fingers across a pale collarbone.  He slips his hand beneath the shirt, tracing Aoba’s shoulder and bicep.  Aoba feels smaller, somehow, wrapped in Mink’s shirt like this, enough so that Mink can slide his entire hand into a sleeve without any pull or resistance from the cloth.  He pulls his hand back, sliding it down Aoba’s side, memorizing the way Aoba’s muscles shift beneath his hand as it journey’s down to grip to Aoba’s hip.  
  
It’s fascinating, watching the changes and twitches in Aoba’s face.  He drinks in the sound of Aoba’s hitched breaths and sighs as he rubs circles around Aoba’s hipbones.  His fingers stray further, slipping just between Aoba’s thighs, sliding up—and stopping, just short, not quite there.  
  
With a sigh, he lifts his hand instead to wrap Aoba in a loose hug.  He presses his lips to Aoba’s forehead, not quite a kiss, and sighs.  “You’re not as good an actor as you think you are,” Mink says, “but still better than I thought.”  And Aoba wriggles slowly, chuckling as he kisses Mink’s throat.  
  
“Mmm...morning,” Aoba says, his voice a sleepy croak.  Mink grunts his reply as Aoba’s hips press up against his own with a languid roll.

 

“How long have you been awake?”  Mink sounds more irritated than he actually is, fingers brushing through Aoba’s hair and smoothing down Aoba’s spine.  
  
“Long enough,” Aoba murmurs in reply.  He lifts his head, hazel eyes half-lidded, a small, round coin of sunlight kissing Aoba’s cheekbone.  Drowsiness softens the edge of his smirk as he leans up, kissing the corner of Mink’s mouth.  “Wanted to see what you’d do,” he whispers, and his lips rasp against Mink’s stubble.  “Had an interesting dream about you.”  
  
Mink’s spit seems to turn to sand in his mouth.  Aoba rolls their hips together, setting a slow rhythm as he twines his arms around Mink’s neck and kisses his mouth.  Mink’s body starts to respond, the embers of last night’s passion flaring inside of him.  He takes Aoba’s shoulders and presses him down into the mattress, watching the way the sunlight curves around his throat.  
  
“So you dreamed about me,” Mink says, nudging Aoba’s thighs apart with one of his knees as he tugs at his shirt.  “Wonder if it had anything to do with _this_.”  
  
“Yeah.”  Aoba’s eyes, still heavy with sleep, drift down his own body.  He smiles when he sees Mink’s fingers plucking at his shirt.  “Got cold last night.”  He shifts his legs, shifting himself down so he can rub against Mink’s thigh.  “Didn’t think I could, not after the way we—”  
  
“Mm.”  Mink cuts Aoba off there, his voice a low purr, and he leans down to nip and suckle at Aoba’s earlobe.  “Is that so.”  
  
“Ah—y-yeah.”  Aoba laughs a little, his sentence broken up as Mink plasters wet, warm kisses down Aoba’s jaw and over his throat.  There’s a breathlessness to his voice that inspires Mink to bow his head and nibble at Aoba’s collarbone.  “Dreamt I was—mm—inside.  Inside you.  Not like--that, though.”  
  
Mink pauses, his mouth just above Aoba’s nipple.  He looks up and quirks an eyebrow, waiting even as Aoba whines and arches into his mouth.  
  
“It was like…fuck, I don’t know how to describe it,” Aoba murmurs, sighing as Mink leans down to nip and lick.  “Don’t remember much—I just.  Was inside you.  You were closed around me.  Warm.  Dark.”  
  
“…Should I be worried?”  
  
Aoba smacks his palm against Mink’s shoulder, and the chuckle slips from his throat.  “Asshole.  Wasn’t—I’m not that guy from that movie you made me watch.  I was just—wherever I was felt like you.”  Aoba’s eyes soften, his expression relaxing as he tilts his head back and remembers.  “Felt your fingers,” Aoba murmurs, “touching me from the inside out.  All over my body.  And—”  
  
Mink bites down on Aoba’s nipple, cutting his sentence off and making his breath hitch.  He feels the aftershocks in Aoba’s quaking body and smiled to himself.  “Doesn’t make much sense.”  
  
Aoba smacks his shoulder again, this time soothing it over with gentle fingers.  “It was a dream,” he says.  There’s a pout in Aoba’s awakening tone, one that makes Mink smirk as he pulls back to lean over Aoba, to watch his face.  
  
“Was it like this?” Mink asks, and he lets his hands wander everywhere they can reach underneath his shirt.  They take in Aoba’s hipbones, the spread of muscle over his ribcage, and the rough skin where his elbow juts out.  Aoba’s breeze-faint moans spur him on; Mink watches as his own slide down Aoba’s body, mapping the inside of his thighs with a sheer, fleeting touch.  
  
There’s a certain satisfaction that comes when Aoba’s ticklish chuckles get crushed beneath the feel of Mink taking him in hand and squeezing.  
  
Mink shifts back, his touches slow and lazy; he watches the way the sun’s rays wash over Aoba’s body, breaking against his face and tangled hair.  The soft morning light gives Aoba’s body an easy drowsiness, caught between sleep and waking; though his eyes sparkle, half-open and eager, his body moves with the ease and languor of a cat waking from a nap.  
  
Mink reaches for the night stand and grabs the well-used box of lubricant, leaning in to kiss Aoba as he fumbles with the lid.  Aoba’s lips taste faintly of flowers and honey, and Mink remember’s Aoba’s mouth around his oil-slick fingers, licking and sucking and making his cock twitch.  He sighs when Aoba accepts him, tangling their tongues as Mink scoops more cream onto his fingers, dipping down to rub at Aoba’s entrance with slick fingertips.  He pulls back as Aoba tries to press forward, and Aoba huffs, tensing against him.  
  
“Mm—don’t tease,” Aoba pleads, pulling back and murmuring against Mink’s lips.  “Please—not now—”  
  
Mink’s body obeys Aoba, pressing into tight heat with one finger; it accepts him with greater ease than Mink expected.  He still stretches him with gentle strokes and slow curls of his fingers; the last thing he needs is to ruin this moment, this gentle atmosphere stretched over them like a freshly woven spider’s web.  
  
“More,” Aoba whispers, smiling and arching his back towards Mink’s hand.  Mink curls his fingers into Aoba’s hair, and Aoba tilts his head back and surrenders, letting Mink lean down to nip and kiss at Aoba’s neck.  
  
“What’s gotten into you?” Mink asks, more to himself than to anyone, as he carves a path of kisses down Aoba’s neck with teeth and lips.  
  
“ _You_ ,” Aoba breathes, and chokes as Mink brushes up against something sensitive inside of him.  “Stupid dream,” Aoba says, turning his face away from Mink and blushing—there’s the Aoba he knows, the one that needs to be coaxed away from shyness with gentle touches and deep kisses.  “Meant to grab _my_ shirt last night.”  
  
Mink pulls back, leaning down to press his mouth to the corner of Aoba’s.  “Well,” he says, sliding a second finger inside, “I’m not complaining.”  
  
He swallows Aoba’s retort, kissing him with an open mouth and a lazy tongue.  And when Aoba moans, his words lost, Mink allows himself to think of last night—of Aoba riding him, hips rocking and hands planted on Mink’s chest, eyelids fluttering shut and mouth falling open as he moans Mink’s name.  
  
“I suppose you’re going to expect me to make it up to you.”  He thrusts his fingers in a haphazard rhythm, kisses a light path down Aoba’s belly when he slides his fingers out.  He presses a few kisses to the underside of Aoba’s cock before pulling back and spreading his legs.  He slides his head between Aoba’s thighs, and—  
  
“ _Oh._ ”  Aoba’s hands claw at the bed, his back arching.  Mink fights the urge to rut against the bed, to make himself come just from Aoba’s voice and the way he shoves himself down towards Mink’s mouth.  “Mink, please, ple _—ah_!”  
  
Mink smirks, obliging Aoba, dipping his tongue past tight muscle; he coats his fingers with more lubricant, and he’s almost drunk on the scent of flowers as he spreads it over his cock with a loose fist and slow strokes.  He watches Aoba’s face the whole time, taking in the way Aoba’s back arches and his face tightens.  He’s beautiful, when he’s lost to himself, and the urge to to lose himself in Aoba seizes his heart like talons.  
  
Mink pulls back, catching his breath as he stalks up Aoba’s body.  Aoba’s hand bats his own away, the hem of his shirt sleeves hiding all but his fingertips as he squeezes Mink’s cock, rubs the head against his entrance, teasing himself.  “Now,” Aoba whispers, and even in the silken sound, there lingers a sense he won’t be denied.  
  
Mink loses himself to that voice, looks into Aoba’s eyes as he slides inside.  He’s slow and easy, like the way they awoke, and thick, rich moans spills out from between Aoba’s lips as Mink rocks into him with slow, careful thrusts until their hips finally meet.  
  
The sight steals Mink’s breath from his lips; it finds its way into his fingertips and the way they brush Aoba’s cheek.  Aoba turns his head a little, and a sigh shudders over Mink’s palm as he reaches up, brushing fingertips against Mink’s knuckles.  His eyes slide open with a smile, one that Mink echoes with a smaller, softer version.  
  
“Mmmmm,” Aoba hums, lifting his hips, “move.  _Move_ …”  
  
He takes Aoba’s hips in his hands, thumbs circling hipbones as he moves.  He keeps his thrusts slow and liquid as he leans down, his breath hot against the shell of Aoba’s ear.  “Please,” Aoba pleads, his arms circling Mink’s neck.  Mink feels the fabric of his own shirt draping over Aoba’s thin arms, more like a cloak than a shirt.  “ _Please_ —”  
  
Aoba “please” tastes of faint sweetness and morning breath as Mink turns his head to kiss his mouth again.  He sets his pace to the tone of the morning and moves like Aoba stretched when he woke, lazy and half-dreaming.  Mink’s hand moves to Aoba’s cock and squeezes, taking to memory the sound Aoba makes when he shifts his angle.  
  
“So good,” Aoba breathes, and his eyes flutter open to smile at Mink.  Mink’s pulse stutters, his rhythm hitching and faltering.  “So warm—just like that…”  
  
Aoba arches, eyes half-mast, and draws his knuckles over Mink’s cheekbone.  Mink watches Aoba’s eyes in turn, irises gleaming and liquid in the light, Aoba’s fingertips rasping over morning stubble as they trace his jaw.  Mink leans back, fingers splayed on Aoba’s things, seeking a different angle—something, perhaps, to startle Aoba from his lazy relaxation.  
  
Mink takes in the way Aoba’s body twitches as he fucks him, memorizes the swirls and snarls of hair as his head falls back against the pillows and his fingers claw at the sheets.  Mink’s shirt spreads out around him, falling open to his sides and exposing his torso.  He finds his eyes drawn instead to the light that flickers across Aoba’s belly, the skin warmer where the light touches.  
  
More.  It’s more of an instinct than a thought, settling hot and heavy in his hips.  He leans down, and his hands smooth down Aoba’s back as he pulls out.  
  
“…hmm?”  Aoba’s too lazy to ask him what he’s doing, eyes fluttering open instead and squinting up.  
  
Mink gathers Aoba into his arms, rolling them over so that Aoba straddles him, legs sprawled on either side of his hips, sputtering as his arms sprawl across Mink's body in an attempt to steady himself.  
  
“Want to watch while you ride me again,” Mink murmurs, his voice husky with arousal rather than slumber as he rocks up against Aoba, pressing his cock up against sex-warmed skin.  “That okay?”  
  
Aoba blinks down at him for a moment, then his cheeks flush red even as he smiles, lowering his eyes.  “Lazy jerk,” Aoba teases, but his tone is warm and sweet as he leans down and presses his lips to Mink’s.  “Fine, just this once.”  He says this as though Mink’s asked this countless times before, and Aoba’s always indulged.  
  
Aoba nips at Mink’s bottom lip before pulling away, just out of reach, to take his cock in his hand, guiding Mink back inside of him.  It’s easier the second time, warmer and looser, Aoba;s hands coming to rest on Mink’s belly as he steadies himself.  He rocks his hips back and forth a few times, deliberate and slow, a breathy chuckle slipping free from his throat.  “Th-there,” he says.  “Needed—mm—needed to find the right angle.”  There’s a teasing lie tucked in his smile that makes Mink’s eyes narrow, his fingers curling back around Aoba’s hips.  
  
He thrusts up, once, satisfied by how quickly Aoba surrenders to him, his shoulders slackening as he curls forward.  Aoba accepts him with an ease and enthusiasm that sends fire flickering through Mink’s veins.  Aoba’s fingernails scratch against Mink’s belly as his fingers curl; the shirt slides down to pool in his elbows.  
  
Mink’s eyes can’t seem to stay still.  He catches them roaming along the places where sunlight binds up Aoba’s body, twining around torso, arms, and chest with an ease that ropes lack.  Mink’s hands stray from Aoba’s hips, tracing the edge of the sun’s rays, picking a path between shadow and light.

Aoba’s too lost to his lust to notice, sweet moans spilling from his throat.  The sun catches on his lips, pink and slick with spit as they part to let his tongue wet them.  
  
Mink is helpless to his own desire to feel them, reaching up to run his thumb over the soft skin.  His mouth waters and his body aches with the faint memory of what they tasted like.  
  
Aoba’s eyes slide open, and his head tilts to the side, his eyes flickering from Mink’s thumb to his face.  He feels Aoba as he smiles—sweet, with a wicked edge—before he leans in and nips at the pad of Mink’s thumb, gathering skin between his front teeth and clenching in a way that goes right to Mink’s dick.  
  
Mink’s orgasm takes him by surprise, a sudden tensing of his own muscles as he watches Aoba soothe the bite with his tongue.  His hand tightens on Aoba’s hip; his back arches, eyes screwing shut as he rides out the pleasure flooding his veins and spilling into Aoba.  Aoba’s moan echoes his own as he tightens around Mink, thighs quivering.  
  
Mink opens his eyes and drinks in Aoba’s fingers curled on his abdomen, watching the light catch Aoba’s skin and hair and eyes.  Mink’s sensitive skin notes the difference between Aoba’s skin and the shirt draped around his elbows, and he leans up to kiss and lick Aoba’s shoulder.  He takes Aoba in hand, his cock fitting against his palm as if it was meant to be there.  He worships Aoba with lazy strokes and nuzzles the hollow of Aoba’s throat; he breathes in the musk of sex that drapes over Aoba’s body and the way it blends with his cool, clear-breeze scent.  
  
A broad smile spreads over Mink’s mouth, and he hides it by kissing Aoba’s lips, nipping his bottom lip.  And he holds Aoba close as he comes, whispering encouragement as Aoba cries out into his mouth and coats Mink’s fingers with his come.  
  
Birdsong breaks the silence, counterpoint to their pants; Aoba shifts up, letting Mink slip out of his body, and leans down to kiss him.  It’s barely a brush of lips, something as soft and warm as the light outside, something Mink has no desire to deepen.    
  
When Aoba gathers Mink’s dirtied hand in one of his own, reaching for a few tissues, Mink lifts his own shirt so that it drapes over Aoba’s shoulder again.  It prompts a raised eyebrow and narrowed eyes.  “Looks good on you,” he says, and watches Aoba fight the urge to smile.  
  
“I only wore it because it was cold last night.” Aoba reminds him, grousing as he tosses the tissues into the trash can and flops back on the bed.  “It’s only going to get hotter today—sometimes the weather here makes no sense at all.”  
  
“Mm.” Mink sits up, stretching, only pausing when he feels Aoba’s hand on his chest, looks down to see him smiling up with half-lidded eyes and a sweet smile.  
  
“It’s a holiday,” Aoba says, his tone lazy and low.  You don’t have to get up.”  He grips Mink’s waist when he tries to move away, a small whine slipping from his throat.   
  
“Not all of us want to sleep the day away. It’s late, and our breakfast is going to be lunch soon.”  
  
Aoba’s stomach growls, as if in agreement.  He doesn’t move, though, and his expression doesn’t change.  Mink feels himself begin to soften about a second before he settles back down, smoothing Aoba’s bangs to the side and kissing his forehead.  
  
“Fine.  Fifteen more minutes,” Mink grumbles, and Aoba thanks him with a kiss to the skin just beneath Mink’s earlobe.  
  
He watches as Aoba sighs, long and low, and surrenders; his body relaxes, letting itself fit the curl of Mink’s body, his eyelids closing as he takes deep, rhythmic breaths.  Already he’s easing back into a sleep that will last more than fifteen minutes.  His hair and the line of his cheekbone is bright where the sunlight strikes it.  
  
Mink tucks his nose into the crook of Aoba’s neck, taking in the scent of sunlight and cool, gentle wind.  He cradles Aoba’s body against his own, and eases himself back into sleep to the scent of Aoba’s skin and sweat twined with the faint scent of cinnamon from his shirt.

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of wanna do lazy morning sex for all the boyfriends. We'll see.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
